


Like Burning

by Xela



Category: Psych
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Puns, Firefighters, Innuendo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:38:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xela/pseuds/Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn Spencer, firefighter extrodinaire and pain in Detective Carlton Lassiter's ass.  (Not literally--Shawn's working on it, ok?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Burning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andieshep](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=andieshep).



Carlton heaved a sigh as CSU zipped up the charred body for transport. He flipped through his notebook; they appeared to have an eye witness, a firefighter who saw someone fleeing the scene. Carlton straightened as the Fire Chief approached him, another firefighter in tow.

"Detective Lassiter, this is..." The Chief glanced at the other firefighter, who looked up at him with impossible innocence. "This is Shawn. Spencer. You'll need to talk to him." The Chief turned around, and Carlton wondered if he'd just imagined the muttered 'good luck.'

"Mister...Spencer," Carlton said officiously, noting the man's name in his notebook.

"Enchanté." A hand appeared over his notebook. Carlton looked up into a soot-covered face, streaks of sweat carving sinuous lines and showing paler skin beneath. The man looked completely unconcerned that he was interrupting a police investigation. "And it's Shawn."

Carlton scowled. _"Mister Spencer,"_ Carlton said tightly, "I understand you--"

"Six-one, white, light brown hair, probably 34, maybe 38 if he's been taking care of himself. Walks with a limp on his right side, probably from a time he broke his leg when he was younger. And he has cats. Three."

"If you're going to treat this like a joke, Mr. Spencer, I'm going to have to ask you down to the station so we can conduct this interview in a more official capacity."

"Kinky," Shawn murmured, eyes glinting devilishly. Carlton had never wanted to cuff someone so much.

\--

Mark Hames. 34. Almost imperceptible limp in his right leg because he fell out of a tree when he was twelve. Three cats he was inordinately concerned for. Arrested because he stopped in a pet store to buy a very specific brand of cat food down the block from the burned out building and someone smelled fire on him.

"So, _Detective._ " Carlton groaned and resisted the urge to bang his head repeatedly against the desk. Shawn--Spencer's tone was a strange mix of mockery and affection. 

"Mr. Spencer. What can the SBPD do for you today?" Carlton asked with a fake smile.

"Well. I know this place that makes great pineapple smoothies. We could talk about starting fires. Alcohol is a great accelerant." Carlton frowned in confusion. Shawn smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. At first, Carlton thought he might have a mental affliction. Then he realize that Shawn was...oh. OH.

"I know _a lot_ of ways to start a fire," Shawn purred in Carlton's ear. "And the best ways to put them out."


End file.
